


Serpent

by Bitterblue



Series: Experimental Theology [3]
Category: His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-11
Updated: 2014-06-11
Packaged: 2018-02-04 06:38:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1769302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bitterblue/pseuds/Bitterblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The alethiometer, still at home in her coat pocket, bumped her thigh as she turned toward the residence. She would put it back, easily enough achieved with the Professor away. But first, she would make sure Delphine was alright. Can be read as a one-shot or as part of the series, Delphine and Cosima in Lyra's world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Serpent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reincarnationofalovebird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reincarnationofalovebird/gifts).



The Professor left for Bern on a bright Sunday morning, looking, to Cosima's practiced eye, anticipatorily tired at the thought of so much travel. Delphine had been at St Hilda's for four days and fifteen hours. Not that Cosima was counting.

The labs were kept warm with smokeless fireplaces, lit in a bewitching combination of naphtha, anbaric bulbs where the naphtha light could not easily reach, and the glittering blue flame of burners caught sparkling and sparking between bits of glassware. It had always enchanted Cosima, but the sight of Delphine in this place made her feel giddy and dim, made her want to twist her hands together so as not to accidentally bury them in gold hair in its pristine bun, made her want all sorts of improbable things she knew she had no right to request. Except, Laurent and Prospero kept to themselves under their desks and away from their feet, heads bowed in some silent conversation neither woman could quite fathom, and Cosima found hope blooming in her chest despite herself.

"I am trying to study if we can see Dust as it affects cellular structure," Delphine explained during a tea break, outlining her theories in on the back of a paper of formulas the morning the Professor left.

"Oh,  _interesting_. I'm hoping to put together some experiments to work out if other animals are affected by Dust like people, but I have to get a lot of preliminary research done first. If you can get it working, I could really go a lot quicker with in vivo models." Cosima smiled broadly, and pushed down the fluttery feeling when Delphine returned it.

A knock on the door broke their gaze, Cosima shifting in her seat to look, eyebrows raised. The laboratory was often busy on a weekday, but until Delphine, Cosima had spent her weekends alone in the space.

"Come in?" They glanced at each other, eyebrows raised, as the heavy oak door swung inward to reveal a very apologetic looking scholar Cosima knew was a Dean of some variety, his chipmunk daemon tucked into a pocket at the side of his academic gown.

"I'm very sorry to interrupt you, of course, but if Miss Cormier could please come with me, we need to search her rooms and her person. It's most likely a misunderstanding, but she has been specifically asked after."

Delphine spluttered, indignant rage colouring her face as Laurent shifted out from under a work table to stand at her side with the barest hint of a growl. "And why is this to occur?"

The Dean, still all apology, frowned. "I don't wish to needlessly embarrass you in front of Miss Niehaus. Please. It won't be long." Cosima caught her by the elbow, squeezing briefly, and shook her head.

"It's probably nothing. I'll meet you in the dining hall for lunch." Her smile must have been more reassuring than she felt, because Delphine smiled in that warm way again and left with the Dean, the faint noise of Laurent's grumble-growl echoing back down the hall towards Cosima and the laboratory like the crackle of flames.

They did not come to lunch.

Cosima, plate piled high with food, watched the door with an impatience she could feel press through her and Prospero both, his tail twitching in an irritated way across the tops of her boots. Familiar faces trickled in and out, eating and talking and laughing, though none came to sit by the dark haired girl with her long-legged cat daemon. The dining hall would close again soon to prepare for dinner, so Cosima reluctantly ate most of what she had been given. It sat like lead in her stomach.

The promised thunderstorms of days before still sat in dark clouds in the distance, lingering in an electric haze on the horizon, but it was, for this moment, clear and terribly bright in the way only the first breath of winter could be. The alethiometer, still at home in her coat pocket, bumped her thigh as she turned toward the residence. She would put it back, easily enough achieved with the Professor away. But first, she would make sure Delphine was alright.

With the light streaming in from vaulted windows and the naphtha lamps turned off, Cosima always felt as if she were walking the halls of a long-forgotten castle when she had cause to be in the residence during the day. She found Delphine's door and knocked.

"Delphine? You missed lunch." She shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Perhaps she was not here, either. Perhaps she had gone back to the lab. Perhaps--

The door opened, just a crack, wolf-dog nose poking through. "Cosima?" She felt Prospero shift at her ankles, and touch a paw to Laurent's own. Delphine's daemon's voice was deeper than she had expected, and warmer, too, like the first sip of tea; he whispered her name in the same broken syllables of his mistress. It was a privilege for another's daemon to speak with her. The fluttery hope thumped uncomfortably inside her chest.

"Are you alright? Can we come in?" Laurent stepped back at the same time that Prospero stepped forward, insinuating himself between the door and the frame. Taking this as a concession, Cosima pushed the door open further and paused at the threshold.

Papers were strewn about, mixed with clothing and opened books, the bedlinens awry. In the middle of the floor, in the middle of the mess, sat Delphine, tracks from now-dry tears staining her face. Cosima found herself frozen in the doorway, hand still on the door handle, until Delphine moved to look up at her and the spell of the moment broke.

"What  _happened_?" She came to the blonde and knelt, reaching out instinctively to brush fingers across cheekbones before stopping herself, hand lingering in the air uselessly close to Delphine's face. She swallowed minutely, lips pressing together, as Delphine leaned her cheek against the warmth of Cosima's hand.

"They accused me of theft and searched my things." It sounded nearly benign, her tone soft and apologetic, but there was a wildness in her eyes. Laurent lay his head in Delphine's lap, her fingers threading into the fur behind his ears. "I came here to study with the Professor because she knows so much about Dust. She is a...is a…" she searched for the word, nose wrinkling, "a pioneer. She has an instrument that can communicate with Dust. She left it behind today and sent someone back to get it." A sinking pit began to form in Cosima's stomach, weighted heavy by the little golden trinket in her pocket. "They accused me of taking it. I didn't! I wouldn't. So there was nothing to find, but it was  _humiliating_." She cleared her throat, Cosima realizing all at once that she was still touching Delphine's cheek. She moved to pull her hand away. Nimble fingers grasped her wrist, keeping her in place. "I was worried you would think I was a thief, too."

"No.  _No_. I promise, no, never. I...I'm sorry that happened to you. I can't believe they thought you would take it."

"Cosima, I'm new and I'm not English. I understand, even if it hurts me."

"It isn't right! You wouldn't  _steal_. I can't...this is... _Delphine_." She could not explain that the stolen object lay between them now, could not reveal that she had been the cause of this hurt. Her pulse was too loud in her ears; she suddenly felt too warm all-over, too unsure of herself, too much of everything. She tugged her hand back again. This time, Delphine allowed it, her hand falling back to Laurent's head. Prospero nudged her thigh with his head, too close to the alethiometer for Cosima's comfort, and she stroked down his spotted, coarse fur, soothing them both.

Her teeth caught and worried her lip briefly before she smiled, moving to stand. "Can I help you clean up?" Upright, she offered her hands to Delphine and tugged the taller woman up, too. The contact lasted a beat too long, Delphine's face intent, before she pulled together the shadow of a smile.

"Yes. Merci. Thank you, yes."

Cosima left the clothing to Delphine; the thought of her hands in such intimate places sent an uncomfortable frisson down her spine. Instead, she picked at the books and papers, sorting them into probable piles neatly on the desk. Most were research, her glance skating across familiar titles and authors, but a few were personal letters. She hastily set those down and aside, despite the impenetrability of Delphine's hand and her shaky grasp of French. Private things should be private.

She turned to survey the rest of the mess and instead found herself presented with the image of Delphine, bent over her bed to tuck the sheets back in place. She swallowed, sure it was audible. Prospero looked feline smug, the worst kind. Cosima half turned away to fuss with the desk again for something to occupy her hands and her mind. The brush of fur under her fingertips, one hand hanging loose at her side, was warm and familiar until it very much was not.

This was not her daemon.

Laurent pressed his head above her knee, sliding himself between her legs and her arm to shudder static through her. Cosima yelped in surprise, unable to back away because of the desk, and jerked her hand up. She had never even considered touching another person's daemon; it was not done. Delphine straightened, turned to look at her, and smiled.

"Laurent," she said, and the dog daemon moved back to her side, leaving the memory of the pin-prick sensation of him rippling through Cosima. Her eyes were warm when they finally met Cosima's. "I'm sorry, I don't...that was very rude of us."

Cosima shivered again, and shrugged. "I'm sure it wasn't...you know. Intentional." Delphine opened her mouth to answer, then shut it abruptly, stepping across the room so quickly that Cosima found herself leaning back against the desk again. "Delphine?" Warm dog pressed back into her knees, making her breath catch. Some part of her was quite sure she could hear Prospero smirking, despite it being absurd.

Delphine tasted of tears. Her mouth was gentle across Cosima's own, her hands finding purchase on shoulders and then fluttering off again to slide down her neck, into her hair, across her shoulders again, her back, as if she needed to memorize the smaller woman's shape as quickly as possible.  _No_ , she thought giddily to her daemon and the room, _this is nothing like Beth_ , who had been scared and angry. Delphine was all sweetness and want. Cosima found herself gasping into the kiss, arms sliding around the blonde to hold her close. The insistent press of Laurent at the back of her knees slid across her nerves in a  _wrong-not wrong_  hiss. She felt Prospero shift, stretch, curl between Delphine's ankles, felt the shudder it sent through Delphine and through their kiss. She groaned. Both daemons stepped away, then, leaving women tangled together, Cosima's fingers sliding into the bun she vaguely remembered feeling quite certain was off-limits earlier in the day.

Her laugh, low and adoring, broke the kiss. Delphine frowned slightly. "Did...I...have I made a mistake, Cosima?"

How had she failed to notice all of the colours contained in her eyes? Surely she would have catalogued this long list of forest shadowed shades. Her teeth felt sharp, as wolfish as Laurent when pulled into a grin. "No. Nothing wrong. Just...surprised. I'm surprised. Good surprised."

Delphine's smile made her shiver just as surely as the touch of her daemon had. "I have never...this is a sin, with a woman. But I  _want_."

"Yes," Cosima breathed against her mouth, and they were lost.

The Professor had mentioned once that Dust seemed to be particularly interested in adults in pursuit of knowledge and adults in sexual situations. Clothing tugged off in a rush, hands everywhere and reverent, Cosima found herself wondering if they were alight with it, could imagine a faint golden glow to their skin that was surely more than simple sunlight and motes of ordinary dust illuminated. Then Delphine's mouth was on her own again, and they both forgot how to think of anything but skin and touch and heat.

When Delphine came, shaking muffling her cries with her forearm, it was with some unfathomable mix of Cosima's name and  _sin_  on her lips, the proof of it smeared, welcome, across Cosima's mouth.

It was easy to curl up against Delphine's side, to grin stupidly, sated, after. She had wanted, but not expected, and the delight of it made her tired. "I think we should take a nap before dinner." She grinned at Delphine, lopsided and vision hazy without her spectacles.

"Yes," Delphine breathed against her cheek, capturing her mouth in another soft kiss. Cosima drifted to sleep, her arm thrown across the blonde's waist, Prospero curled up under the bed next to Laurent.

After a time, Delphine slipped out from under the arm and sat up. She briefly rested her head in her hands, breathing as deeply as she dared to with the sleeping woman in her bed, and then stood. Cosima's coat lay long-forgotten on the desk. The blonde turned, taking in her nodding daemon and the dark, dark hair curled like shadows across her pillow. Her hand found the alethiometer, and she sighed again.

Dressing as quickly and soundlessly as she was able, Delphine gathered together papers and the most important items she could not bear to be without, tucking the alethiometer into the inside breast pocket of her own coat as she pulled it on. Without a backward glance, she left the room, canvas bag of necessary items over her shoulder and wolf-dog at her feet.

Heart heavy, soul aching, Delphine left Oxford, the small gold mechanism no longer a triumph at all.


End file.
